So Pure Yet So Tainted
by DevilChild1
Summary: Gordo, straight A's & directing career. Well, how about when he explors a new side of him, a seriously punk side of him? When he starts with the wrong crowd... When he loses everything...


So Pure, Yet So Tainted  
  
(PG-13)  
  
DevilChild211 and Cc  
  
Author's Notes.  
  
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!! Neither of us own Lizzie Mcguire & my only warning is Gordo angst although not too much.  
  
*****  
  
It's a damn white room.  So pure yet so tainted.  White isn't a color for a place like this, for this hell hole, for an insane asylum.  Why the hell can't it be black? They should paint it fucked up black, it'd fit it so much better, it'd fit my head.  Or maybe a dark cold gray, the way I feel, the way people say me eyes are.  Whatever.  It shouldn't be white.  Maybe I should burn it down.  Let the fire scorch it, burn it.  Let the inferno obliterate all of it.  Everything.  Turn it all to ash and then let it scatter to the four corners of the earth.  Incinerate it, and then let me burn with it. No, that wouldn't be a good idea.  Burning alive. doesn't sound very appealing to me.  I used to try to escape.  I used to punch the thick walls and kick them and scream and yell my innocence until my throat burned and my breath was short.  
  
Then the doctors came in and gave me sedatives.  But not anymore, now I'm calm. Hardly anyone comes to visit me.  They used to though; they used to come and look at me with so much pity in their eyes, I couldn't stand it. Especially the ones who call themselves my parents, two girls, Lizzie and Miranda who claimed to be my best friends, they're all familiar but I don't remember them. Some times I see a little boy peek in with spiky brown hair, Matt, Lizzie say's that he's her little brother. But lately no one has come.  Everyone's either forgotten me or deemed me unworthy to receive company. Ever since the incident that landed me into this hell hole.  
  
I'm alone now.  Most of the time I don't notice the walls are white.  Most of the time they are black.  Never gray though.  Most of the time everything is empty most of the time everything passes by & I can't remember it. If you don't understand then it's not a big deal.  No one else does.  It's funny; this is their entire fault, that stupid band's but my 'father' or claims to be came in & started yelling about me about me throwing my life away, that it was my fault. I don't know how long ago it was, and I don't know how things started.  I still remember it like it was yesterday, well the doctor says I have memory lapses & that things that had happened in-between my pathetic memories that brought me to this. I still remember, although the end is a bit hazy.  
  
*****  
  
Punk rock rules. I used to be so hyped up on that camera fashion thing I had going. I wanted to be a director. To be a great director, you have to have experience in front of the camera, too, so I had some people videotape me playing my guitar. They were suprised that I could play, but I did have other interests besides prefect grades and directing. Anyway, everyone encouraged me to try out for a band in the high school that needed a guitarist.  The band, "Vertigo's Stalker", offered me the position right away, but looking back, I don't know if it was such a good idea to accept. We were a hardcore punk band, but it was all VH1 like with the nightlife these other guys had.  
  
Brad, Jim, and Eric were the others, Jim on bass, Eric was drums, and Brad was our lead. They were constantly dealing or being dealed drugs. Half the practices I went to were spent "just saying no." My parents hated the idea of me wanting to be a musician, at least when I wanted to be a director I had to go to school. All my old friends, Lizzie, Miranda, of course they faded away. I mean, can you imagine Lizzie all punked out, rockin' to the beat? Laughable.  
  
I showed up to practice one day and Brad, Jim, and Eric were high again. "You rollin'?"  The question was thrown at me repeatedly, every time I shook my head. Eric swung an arm around my shoulders and passed me a joint, I shook my head again as he pled. I don't know what really happened just then, but I'm sure that I didn't say yes. I decided to leave, everyone was high there, God. Suddenly the screams of sirens were heard and everyone panicked. I watched as people threw around bags of joints and bottles of liquor, hiding it as well as they could. Some old lady next door to us called in about seeing puffs of smoke all around the garage we practiced in.  
  
I got stuck in jail without bail for a week before trial. No one visited or anything. Lame. I barely remember the trial, except for bits and pieces. I was very adamant that I was innocent, but my lawyer presented a "guilty" contact that I never signed. I swear everyone set me up. I remember yelling at the judge about this, but the court report says I tried to attack... I never did that! I'd  
  
remeber that! The decided to stick me in this big white building with padded walls and everything just like Daria's room... I like Daria... I wonder if she lives here... It's so nice out. I wanna go out. Let me out. LET ME OUT GOD DAMN IT.  
  
*****  
  
"Alright! Alright! Sheez." I lifted my head at the sound of a new voice, a very high & squeaky new voice & looked up to see Doctor Miles taking a cigarette from one of the new guys, he was tall & lanky, & god was he disfigured by acme.  
  
"Yo. Doc, what's that kid doin' in there?" he asked pointing causally at me, right in front of me, like I was some pathetic animal on display. Fuckin' asshole, trying to act ghetto with his white ass behind.  
  
"His names David, he's in for taking drugs & memory laspes so he thinks he innocent. He was with the wrong crowd I guess he was with this band. Before he was a straight A student too." The Doctor looked at me sadly, I could tell what he was thinking, I was just some stupid kid that threw his life away & went for the worst, everyone thinks that. "He use to struggle, but now. I guess he's calmed down." Doctor Miles looked down at me like so many others, with pity.  
  
"But he's so young, he's like 15, yo man, that's sad. But hey, he got himself in that position I guess in a way he deserved it." The new guy looked down at me & stared at me like I wasn't human but maybe an abused dog, god, just leave!  
  
"It just shows how the world is so screwed."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
*****  
  
You know what?  I can't help but laugh at this. Maybe every one is right, maybe I am just some stupid kid that threw everything away. Maybe they're right about everything, I think they are, I think I took those joints. I think I got high, I even think I signed that damn guilty contract. He's right, I did deserve I guess.  I deserved it all.  
  
Whoops, I see the new bastard accidentally left his lighter on the barred window.  Maybe starting a fire won't be such a bad idea after all.  
  
*****  
  
3/21/04  
  
Doctor Mile's report.  
  
David Gordon  
  
Signed in: 11/8/03  
  
Signed out: 3/21/04 (death)  
  
Status: Memory lapses, hallucinations, cocaine use at these times, depression, slight insanity.  
  
Note: So pure, yet so tainted.  
  
Death: Suicide, fire started with an unattended lighter left near his window by one of the new doctors. Slightly burned but died from smoke inhalation.  
  
Funeral to be held 03/24/04  
  
*****  
  
So? You like? Review!!!!! 


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